


John's Savior

by marysoljames



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Death, Depression, Fluff, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Tears, The Fall - Freeform, Top John, Top John Watson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-05
Updated: 2016-10-05
Packaged: 2018-08-19 17:22:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8219039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marysoljames/pseuds/marysoljames
Summary: It's been a few days after the fall and John has fallen into depression. Nothing seems to make the whole better until one night he receives the gift he has been waiting for.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey let me know what you think of this because I'm still pretty shit at writing!

John lay in bed. He didn’t move or talk or think; he just lay there. It had been a week since Sherlock’s death, and John blamed himself for it. Ever since Sherlock’s death, All John has done is go into his room, lie in bed, and stare off into the distance looking for… something. He felt broken inside, his other perfect piece now gone, and he could do nothing to fill the void. After lying on Sherlock’s bed and taking in the scent that would soon fade from the sheets, he finally got up and got dressed. Every move he made was subconscious; it was almost as if he were a robot. He didn’t feel the pain in his pinkie toe as he stubbed it against the side table. He didn’t feel the sting on his cheek when his razor sliced his skin. John felt absolutely nothing because nothing hurt more than the gash in his heart.

He went downstairs only to make Mrs. Hudson happy. She had become so worried with him because of the way he had changed. John didn’t update his blog anymore. He hardly ever ate and only did when Mrs. Hudson forced him to, and she always saw the dark circles under his eyes when she came to visit. John had hoped to calm her by pretending to go out for a walk today. He couldn’t bare making his sweet landlady suffer with him. She had already been through enough.

“How are you, dear?” John heard from below as he stepped out of 221B.

Mrs. Hudson had quickly scrambled out of her flat at the sound of him walking down the steps, and, judging by the condition of her appearance, she had just gotten up. She was still in her nightgown, and curls were everywhere, but she still had a sweet, concerned smile on her face, but you could see worry in her eyes.  
John cast his eyes down at the ground, not able to look at her as he told his small lie. 

“Um, just fine, Mrs. Hudson. Just ‘bout to go out for a walk.”

Her smile died down a little and now carried a hint of sadness. She took his hands in hers. “You don’t have to pretend around me, John. I know it hurts. We were all close to Sherlock, especially you. We have to learn to move on. It’s what Sherlock would have wanted.”

John felt tears burn at the back of his eyes, so he blinked them back furiously, not wanting to have a scene in front of poor Mrs. Hudson. She’d cried enough. Everyone had been telling him those words, but that didn’t make it hurt any less - if anything it made it hurt more. Every time he heard the sentence, it reminded him of how he should have noticed the change in his friend. 

“I know, Mrs. Hudson. I know,” he managed to choke out. 

John roughly pulled his hands out of hers and rushed out the door. He saw the hurt look in Mrs. Hudson’s eyes as he did so, but he didn’t care. The doctor just wanted to go and hide again.

John walked around the block, taking in deep breaths in a futile attempt to calm himself down. His heart was pounding, and his hands shook as he continued down the road. Everywhere he went, he saw a small piece of the wonderful man he once knew. A woman with a blue scarf crossed the street ahead of him. He saw someone with the same long, black trench coat Sherlock always wore, yet none of these thing seemed right. To John it felt as if the world was damning him for not doing the one thing he felt that he was put on this earth to do: save Sherlock.

Once John had snuck back into the flat, he slowly walked over to the couch, curled his knees into his chest, put his head against his knees, and began to sob. 

John had never felt something so intense in his life before, even his time in Afghanistan, all the men he’d lost - it hadn’t hurt him this much. The ache in his chest never stopped throbbing. His entire body always shook uncontrollably. He could never think of anything else but that day. 

John could always remember that day and the call, the call that Sherlock could have made to anyone… yet Sherlock chose him. Sherlock chose John, his best friend, and he couldn’t even stop Sherlock from jumping. It felt as if Sherlock fell in slow motion as he plummeted, getting closer and closer to the ground. John hadn’t been able to look away from the scene, and his natural consequence was never being able to unsee it. Every time he closed his eyes, he would see the scene. He would see Sherlock’s lifeless body lying on the ground in front of him. John couldn’t understand how to stop the pain nor the dreams, but at the same time, he did. 

John knew it was because every time he heard Sherlock play his violin, his day got a little better. He knew that it was because every time Sherlock spoke, his heart would skip a beat and long for the voice when it was gone. He knew it was because he missed every part of the man everyone else saw as a freak, and John saw as the most beautiful man in the world. He felt the guilt of letting that beautiful man die and leave this world. It would always be his fault, and John would never forgive himself.

John cried himself to sleep after several endless minutes with these thoughts, and they took him to a place where he would not be greeted with darkness but with light. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

John opened his eyes and didn’t see the comforting walls of 221B or the couch he fell asleep on, but a busy London street. 

_Where am I? ___

__The place around him felt so familiar, but why? He felt it at the tip of his tongue, but all he knew was that this place was important. If only he could jus-_ _

__“Please, will you do this for me?”_ _

__It took him only seconds to recognize his best mate’s voice but not the reason of why he was hearing it. Suddenly it all clicked. He was there at the fall, all over again. John looked in front of him and saw, a few feet away, was a clone of himself from that day. His head snapped up in the direction the other him was facing and he saw, as he expected, a mess of dark curls surrounding the pale blur that was Sherlock’s face. John felt the tears creep into his eye,_ _

__“Do what?” his clone asked._ _

__Everything was just as he remembered, and he remembered what the outcome was. The image of a dead Sherlock flashed across his vision from only a second and he felt his knees go weak._ _

__“It's what people do, don't they? Leave a note?”_ _

__Sherlock’s deep voice boomed in his ear as if he was also listening to the call himself. He felt a single tear roll down his cheek. John wanted to scream at the stupid git on the rooftop, but when he tried, nothing came out._ _

__“Leave a note when?”_ _

__John’s heart quickened just like he remembered, but this time it felt ten times worse than he remembered._ _

__“Goodbye, John.” His heart stopped._ _

__John tried screaming, running, even just moving, but nothing worked. His body refused to obey him and he felt every part of himself start to fall apart again until he knew he could only say one word._ _

__“NO!” He heard him and his clone scream simultaneously._ _

__John watched once again as his friend fell from the sky. He felt his limbs free from their invisible bonds and his body collapsed to the floor. He landed on his knees and stuck his hands in front of him so he wouldn’t fall on his face. He slowly sat back on his heels, keeping sure to not lift his head, put his head in his hands and his hands to his knees. John screamed in agony._ _

__“SHERLOCK!”_ _

__He felt the words rip out his heart and take away all the happiness he ever felt. They pulled at all of the memories he ever had of Sherlock and felt them fall to pieces._ _

___No, not again, no, I can’t, no ____ _

____Hot tears ran down his face, and every part of him felt cold and empty and it was hard to breathe. Once again he failed at his chance to save his friend, but John knew Sherlock was more than a friend, wasn’t he? Sherlock was his everything - his heart, his soul, his life. John felt like nothing without Sherlock. But if Sherlock was so much more than a friend, why would he do this to him?_ _ _ _

____As John sobbed, he felt something warm grip his shoulder. He shoved it off and without looking up,_ _ _ _

____”Go away,” he said in a half-hearted scream._ _ _ _

____Suddenly there was a hand on his head pushing his hair back and placing a small kiss there, “You don’t mean that, love.”_ _ _ _

____John froze. He stopped sobbing, breathing, moving, and slowly processed the voice he just heard. John lifted his head from his hands slowly, to reveal a smirking man crouched besides him. John’s heart skipped a beat. He couldn’t get his eyes leave the man’s bright blue ones. God, he’d never seen something so beautiful before._ _ _ _

____“Sh-Sherlock?” he let out shakily. The words felt so familiar and right on his tongue._ _ _ _

____“Yes, love?” Sherlock said as he took John’s hands and lifted him from the ground. John’s couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He reluctantly pulled his eyes away from Sherlock’s to look over to the ground beside the building to see the place where Sherlock should have been lying, but there was nothing. There was no body, no crowd, no ambulance,  
nothing._ _ _ _

____The sudden joy that filled John quickly changed to anger. He ripped his hands out of Sherlock's, shoved his back pointer finger into his chest and screamed,_ _ _ _

____“What the bloody hell did you think you were doing!?”_ _ _ _

____Sherlock jumped in surprise from the sudden outburst,_ _ _ _

____“But John, I did it to protect you,” Sherlock said, concern and confusion written all over his face._ _ _ _

____“Protect me from what?!” John screamed, his body shook with rage. “Ever since you jumped, I’ve been nothing but scared and lonely. Every day is torture because I know that I could have saved you or done something to stop you. I should have known that you were going to kill yourself. I’m your best friend, and I should have been there for you! Because of you, I feel like I can’t even live anymore! With you there was never a dull moment, and I was never frightened to do anything as long as I knew you were going to be by my side. I fell in love with the adventures we had together and the moments we shared. And… and I was in love with you. I still am in love with you.”_ _ _ _

____John felt his anger completely melt away at his last words. He looked down at the floor, waiting for his friends response. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fist at his side to stop them from shaking. These are the words he had been wanting to tell his friend for so long, but he had been too afraid to say them until it was too late.  
John felt Sherlock’s slender fingers wrap around his chin and tilt it up so his blue ones met John’s deep brown ones._ _ _ _

____“I never meant to hurt you, love, only to protect you. There was absolutely no way you could have stopped me from jumping. I can’t tell you why now, but one day I will,” Sherlock pressed a small kiss on John’s forehead. “I promise. And never forget that everything I do is because I love you.”_ _ _ _

____John let out a small gasp and stood there baffled. He never thought he’d hear those words come out of Sherlock’s mouth. He felt like he was floating in the clouds and felt the hole in his heart mend itself. Suddenly John’s eyes were on Sherlock’s lips and the small rare smile that was painted on them. It was like God kicked John in the arse and made him fly. John managed jumped up high enough to attach his lips with Sherlock’s, wrapping his arms around the taller man’s neck in the process._ _ _ _

____John felt Sherlock stumble from the surprise, but he quickly recovered and begins to kiss back. Sherlock leaned back, and the scenery changed; they were now in flat 221B laying on the couch. John was on top; Sherlock below him._ _ _ _

____John noticed the change but paid no attention to it. Instead he slipped his tongue past Sherlock’s lips. Sherlock moaned and did the same, pulling his love closer to him as if if he were to let go, John would disappear. John took his arms from Sherlock’s neck and started running his fingers through Sherlock’s dark, messy curls; they felt just as he had imagined they would._ _ _ _

____John felt Sherlock’s long fingers tugging at the seam of his trousers and began slipping them into his pants._ _ _ _

____John pulled his mouth from Sherlock, shocked at what he was suggesting. He felt himself breathing heavily, his lips swollen from the intensity of their kisses._ _ _ _

____“Are you sure that’s what you want?” John never imagined he’d get this far._ _ _ _

____He heard a deep chuckle erupt from the man’s chest, sending vibrations through his body. Sherlock grabbed John’s neck and pulled him close until his lips were brushing against John’s ear._ _ _ _

____“I’ve never wanted anything more,” he whispered, closing the deal by licking John’s earlobe._ _ _ _

____~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_ _ _ _

____John woke slowly, his eye taking a moment to adjust to the light in the flat. He pulled the blanket closer his body, not ready to move after sleeping. Then it occurred to him,  
I didn’t sleep with a blanket._ _ _ _

____John’s eyes shot open, and he bolted upright looking around. Nothing seemed out of place or unnatural. He sat up and checked his watch discovering that it was 19:00 the next day._ _ _ _

_____Have I really been asleep that long? ____ _ _ _

______He rubbed the heel of his hands against his eyelids, trying to take away the sleep in them._ _ _ _ _ _

_______Damn, I can’t remember the last time I slept since- ____ _ _ _ _ _

________Suddenly John remembered the dream, how could he forget something so wonderful. He recalled every damn detail of it; the fall, Sherlock and his touch, and everything they did together._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________That’s when he noticed the note. It was sitting on the dining table, neatly placed next to one of Sherlock’s many experiment that John had refused to clean up. It was a simple piece of paper folded in half with the word “John” written on the front half._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________John’s first thought was that had been Mrs. Hudson leaving him a note to get better, but upon closer inspection he noticed it was a bit too messy and rushed for her neatly curled cursive._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________John opened the note, more out of curiosity of who wrote it then than what it’s contents were, and skimmed its contents in search of a name. As he quickly scanned through it, key words stood out to him. The words Love and Protection shot out at him the most. John stopped and read a random sentence of the note. A lump quickly formed in his throat as he realized what the note was about. The note read:_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________My Love,  
I know how much it pains you to be away from me; I feel the same. I’m sorry that I cannot be with you right now, but it is for your protection. I will not tell you why it must be like this, but I need you to understand why I’m doing this because everything I do from here on out is for you. I will return to you soon, and when I do, be ready for another grand adventure.  
-SH_ _ _ _

________He read the note over and over again, trying to convince himself that this letter was real. Silent tears feel down his face as he held the note in front of him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“He’s not dead,” he whispered to himself._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________A small smirk slowly crept onto his face and he let out a single chuckle. He pulled the note to his chest and looked up at the ceiling._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“He’s not dead,” he repeated a little louder so the words could feel real. There was a sudden weight lifted from his chest and he let out a breath he never knew he was holding. He felt all his worry and fear leave him in that single moment._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________His best friend wasn’t dead. He hadn’t failed, and Sherlock was going to come back for him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone could tell me what the command it to tab that would be great.


End file.
